


A Dreamless Night

by Razaria



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Don't Have to Know Bloodborne (Video Game), Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29154744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razaria/pseuds/Razaria
Summary: It is the night of the biggest hunt of Yharnam’s history, one which ancient forces usually interfere with. However, there is no good hunter to be found. Several groups of Yharnemites unwittingly carry the night forward on their own while seeking to reach their own personal (and usually unrelated) goals, but will they be able to see it through to the end?This story follows several groups of original characters though anthology-like their stories weave in and out of one another’s. Main bosses, events, and some NPCs will be mentioned, though everything will be explained so even those unfamiliar with the lore or game should be able to follow along.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. I: The Abomination

**I: The Abomination**

A young woman sat at her desk, her eyes cast over the lake, past the broken bridge. A soft mist blanketed the water like a fluffy comforter. The wind was soft and subtle close to shore, however it could be discerned the winds were more violent out by the old abandoned castle. The towering ruins danced as if it pretended to be filled with life once more.

The girl could not tear her eyes from the scene. She was curious about the place, she had been since she was a child. She wondered what life was like there; her mother had spoken of it a lot. Yet the stories sounded as if they were fairy tales. Knights and nobles, balls and grand dinners. That was so far away from the life her and her mother lived now; now they lived in near poverty near a charnel house. They dressed ornately, thanks to her mother’s sewing skills, and her mother had kept her knight’s garb and weapons. However, the young lady and her mother hardly left the house. They would sneak out in evenings, her mother dressed in long cloaks and hood to hide herself. 

The sound of her father hacking tore her away from her thoughts. The frail young lady turned to look at her bedroom door. She took a deep breath before she stood and straightened her skirt. She padded out of her room, making sure to close the door gently with both hands on the way out. She paused, hands still on the cool, dark wood of the door as she stared down towards her parent’s room. Her stomach twisted with anxiety. She failed to realise she was holding her breath until the door across the hall opened up. Her mother slipped out of the room, she whispered something into the room and kept her back to the hall. Her wavy white hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and tucked into the back of her cloak. Every inch of her body, bar her face, had been covered to hide her snow white skin.

The door clicked close and as the full Vileblooded woman turned she pulled her hood over her hair. She paused as her pale blue eyes met her daughter’s. “Mayme, is something the matter?”

“Is Papa okay?” Mayme asked, “It isn’t…”

“He’s getting better. I think it’s just a cold.” The Vileblood offered a gentle smile, though worry laid behind her eyes. “We’re just running out of food, and I don’t know if we can wait until he gets better before shopping.”

“But…” Mayme trailed off, her eyes fell to the ground. “What if someone sees you? Your bloodline is obvious to anyone who… who....”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just hang my head and I won’t let anyone see me. And I’ll bring the evelyn, just in case.”

Mayme frowned, unconvinced. “If a church member sees you… Your skin, your hair, anything.”

Her mother sighed. “I know. The truth is, we only have enough incense for one or two more hunts. If I fall ill too and a hunt happens we’ll be in quite a bit of trouble. It isn’t just the food issue. I know we've gone days without eating before… but beasts? I can't allow us to be attacked.”

“Oh. But that's by the...” Mayme tugged at her shawl so it pulled at the back of her shoulders. She drew a deep breath. “Mama, I’m an adult. I look far less vileblooded than you. I have a little colour in my skin and hair. I think it would be safer for me to go.”

Her mother chewed her lip for a moment. Her face twisted in distress. “Mayme…”

“I’ll be fine.” The young woman’s tone was unconvincing. Her duo coloured eyes met her mother's as a sheepish smile spread across her soft pink lips.

Her mother relented with a sigh. “Okay, it would be safer. You could really pass as a young, pure blooded Yharnamite better than I at least. Just take the evelyn with you, keep it hidden.”

“Yes Mama.”

“Do you need my bullets?”

“No, I can use my own. If something goes wrong you might need yours.”

The Vileblood nodded. She reached around to her back and pulled the ornate pistol from under her cloak. The firearm was polished and well kept, it looked as if it had just come out of Cainhurst that very day. “The pouch of coin and a shopping list is on the table by the door. Be safe.” She stared at the gun longingly, worry painted on her face.

Mayme padded over quickly and gently took the evelyn from her mother’s hand. “She’ll protect me, don’t worry Mama. I love you.” she ran her thumb over the etchings in the firearm before reaching around her back to hide it under her shawl, in her corset.

“I love you too, darling.” Her mother put her hands on the frail young woman's shoulders and planted a kiss on her blonde bangs that curtained over her forehead. "Be quick, okay?"

Mayme nodded slightly before she stepped away. She gathered a small purse from her room and debated putting the firearm in it. She decided she felt safer with it pressed to the small of her back, obscured by both her corset and long shawl. She gathered what she needed and gently arranged it in her purse as she left her house.

The track through Hemwick Charnel Lane was long and uneventful. The folks acted neighborly enough with simple greetings and one woman asking what Mayme was doing out without her father. The poor population of that portion of Yharnam seemed to either not know or care much about politics--nor would they be able to tell a vileblood's bone and face structure from their own. This small fact helped ease Mayme's skittish heart. Still, her worry returned to her as she hurried towards Cathedral ward.

She kept her head down, her duo coloured eyes fixated on the cobblestone path that led away from her sleepy lane. Her heart pounded in her ears, her delicate hands tightly gripped the strap of her purse. Chatter surrounded her as she briskly made her way down the steps. She simply wanted to get to the courtyard and out as soon as possible.

A hand firmly grabbed onto her shoulder and made her muscles tense. A small 'eep' escaped her lips as she spun around to see who had touched her.

A woman soon there. She slowly pulled her gloved hand back and placed it on her hip, in her other hand seemed to be a pick. Doubtlessly a church weapon of some kind; her black dress and white shawl said as much. She was a church hunter.

The woman tilted her head as she examined Mayme, her dark blond hair dusted over her shoulders as she did so. Her peddle pink lips curved into a comforting smile. "You seem anxious. Is something the matter?"

Mayme looked back down at her feet and shook her head. "No," she spoke, barely above a whisper.

The church hunter hummed to herself, quite unconvinced.

"I-I am from Hemwick. I simply came to pick up some incense. I… it's overwhelming how many people are here," Mayme tried to clarify. 

"I see. Well, Hemwick is quite a struggling little lane, isn't it? The church is giving out such things for free, if you don't have the coin."

"It's fine--"

The sound of metal clicked and clanged against itself cut off Mayme's words. She glanced up to see the pick had been extended. It took the shape of something akin to a scythe. An odd trick weapon, to be sure. The glint in the church hunters eyes was gone, and her smile replaced with one that did not quite reach her icy eyes.

"Follow me," the hunter said sternly, though politeness could still be detected in her tone.

Mayme took a deep breath and followed the hunter. Her fingers fidgeted with the bag strap. She did not know if it was her anxiety that ate at her nerves, or if the hunter had discovered her secret. She tailed behind the blonde haired woman, the click of her heels seemingly echoed as they made their way up the stairs. Yharnamites kept their voices hushed as the two passed.

The woman said nothing, even when they entered the grand cathedral. Her cold, emotionless gaze stayed steadfast in front of her. She paid no mind to the locals and her fellow church members as she carried forward. She only listened for the soft steps of the vileblooded woman behind her.

Plenty prayed to a skull on an altar, however most stood in line for a table set up. Church members handed out blood with a smile, some led the sickly away. However, it was only blood. Nothing else.

Mayme noticed the lack of supplies and stopped dead in her tracks. The air caught in her lungs. The church hunter in front of her also stopped, she turned to look at the young lady over her shoulder.

"I told you to follow." The church hunter's voice was filled with venom.

Mayme didn't move.

The church hunter turned and snatched the other woman's wrist. With a quick tug the hunter tugged the girl close. She whispered softly, "Look. I'm willing to let you keep your dignity, if you resist I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand. It matters not to me how many watch you die, creature."

Mayme only managed to let out a squeak before a loud crash echoed throughout the church. The hunter let go of Mayme and spun to see what the commotion was. The table that was once cluttered with glass bottles of blood was empty. Broken glass and blood pooled at the legs. A girl in ill fitted, tattered black robes decorated with ropes climbed upon the table, much to the clergy set up at it's dismay. The woman turned to face the horrified onlookers. She pulled off her hood, her dark eyes on the crowd, her curly almond color locks messily stuck to her pale, freckled face. She threw her arms up which only made it clear how ill fitted the clothes were. They loosely billowed out around a sash around her tiny waist, and the sleeves sagged heavily where they were tucked into a pair of gloves.

"People of Yharnam!" The brunette's young voice was amplified by the building structure. "The blood is venom! Poisons you! The church is killing us all!"

"Abigale! Get down from there!" The blond church hunter called, she began to charge over to the mad woman.

Abigale's black eyes settled on the hunter. "Make me, Quill! You are among the most devious of this corrupt organization, you know damn well the blood is causing the plague!"

"You have lost it! Enough!"

Abigale pulled the threaded cane from her belt and with a flick of her wrist revealed it's alternate form. A threaded whip. It cracked and pulled the population out of their surprised stooper. Now that the mad woman had a weapon there was cause to panic. The Yharnamites screamed and scurried to the exit, and Mayme followed suit.

The vile blooded girl hurried as far away as she could, she hopped from group to group and followed with no care where that led her. She never looked back, just let her legs carry her through the cobblestone streets. Her hands tightly grasped the bag's handle to stop her body from quaking.

Eventually she slipped into an alleyway and slumped against a wall. She slid down, out of breath, and unable to hold back her fearful shivers. Tears rolled down her freckled young face, but she was too emotionally drained to do anything about them. Her hands fell limply to the dusty stones she sat upon. They were cold and smooth, and ever so slightly soothed her. Her breath was laboured, but she was able to hold back sobs and wails. Her eyes moved to the entrance of the alley she had retreated into. She waited, she expected the cold eyed blonde to round the corner, but she never did. No one came for her.

Hours past before Mayme could will herself to her feet once more. She felt as if only an hour or two had gone by, however she was quite wrong. The sun was half way set and the sky was painted in brilliant oranges, pinks, and reds. The streets were quiet, nearly empty bars, a few souls scurrying home.

She paid very little mind to the signs, she was a shambling corpse attempting to drag itself back to the cathedral so she could go home. Only the warm colours of the sun set made her look alive. It gave colour to her pale skin, and brought out the blonde of her hair and she back tracked to the great bridge that connected central Yharnam to the cathedral ward.

Unhindered she eventually arrived, however stopped part way down the bridge. She stared across it, befuddled. The gate was closed. Slowly realization began to swallow her until a panic began to drown her. It was evening. It was soon to be night. Thoughts of the hunt anchored her in a deep frantic panic, she began to make a b-line sprint to the gate and froze as a harrowing screech from beyond it sliced through the air. She sucked in a gasp, the situation made her feel as if she couldn't breath. Her lungs burned as her whole body refused to accept the fact she was left out on a hunt night. She swallowed the bile forming in her throat and forced her wobbly legs to carry her onwards. Her heart raced and all she could hear was the thump of it in her ears.

The building that gated off the rich from the poor shook as a large furry hand appeared from over top of it. Mayme froze, but halt did not make the creature hesitate. It cleared the wall as if it were nothing more than a short decorative fence. The bridge book as it's massive feet landed.

He creature screeched once more, it reverberated through the structure. The stench of its breath appeared to be visible from beads of saliva that sprayed from its canine-like maw. Drool caked the slower half of it's jaw, and had clearly dripped onto his breast. The fur, though matted all over, stuck together in wet chunks on it's chest. It was bipedal, and its hands looked as if they could have once been human. Now, however, the talon-like nails appeared to be far stronger than any person's. They were darkened with dirt and gore caked under them. Fur still grew in patches as it slowly claimed every once human part of the beast.

Mayme stood still, her eyes cast upward at it's feral eyes. It took a lumbering step towards her, but she could do little more than stare like a deer in headlights. She wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. She wanted to run but her legs were locked. The thought of the gun pressed against her back slipped her mind as thoughts of death plagued her. 

A girlish scream echoed through the air, the very sound of it tore Mayme out of her freeze. She was not sure if it had emanated from her or not, but it didn't matter. She reached around back and pulled her evelyn out from it's snug spot on her back. The beast was a big enough target that all she had to do was point and shoot. There was little regard to where, but properly aiming didn't seem to be too important. The bullet tore through the beast. It stangered back, recoiled from the hit. It bowed and had to steady itself with an arm. Dark red blood splattered over the light stone of the bridge, but most of it stayed caught in the beast's fur. The wet blood oozed and gently glistened in the soft evening light. 

The beast screeched a horrid, pained, and enraged scream. It's head turned to gawk at it's new injury. Mayme took no time to watch any more of it's reaction. She turned on her heels and bolted the direction she had come. 

She did not look back, all she wanted was to return to the safety of her alley. She managed just fine and slumped back against the same wall she had before. She shimmied over to peer down the street. Nothing followed her, but some men had begun patrol the streets with torches and farming tools. She slunk deeper into the alley again and kneeled down behind a few barrels of God knows what. She once more simply sat there unnoticed. Surely a beast could sniff her out if one dared to wonder by, but as far as she was concerned this was the safest place for her.

She placed her gun back into hiding and sat with her knees pulled to her chest. The sound of axes against the cobblestone road and men murmuring passed her several times over before she was brave enough to peek out.

The men of Yharnam looked very odd. Their faces dropped on one side, and the pupils on their eyes collapsed. Patches of hair grew sporadically over their faces and bodies. They limped and lumbered, and clearly something was amiss about them. The words they muttered were proper words, but they slurred. Their words seemed simple. Surely this was abnormal. This was not like how the people shopping appeared.

Mayme covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes tight. She didn't want to cry out or wail. But she felt so helpless. She fought her tears back while, unbeknownst to her, an eye peered out of a partially drawn curtain at her. It stared for a long moment before the fabric was pulled close.


	2. II: The Madwoman and The Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A madwoman clad in black decides on some kind of mission gets herself caught up in a mysterious girl's plight, effectively stalling the madwoman and getting her caught up in the night of the hunt. She craves this, yet is sickened by it all. A curious doctor sees this madwoman's display and cannot help but submit to her own curiosity. Two selfish actions surely put the girls on a path they surely did not expect.

The freckled woman pulled her curly light brown hair into a ponytail. Her dark eyes were set on the oak doors of her house, her heart pounding in her chest and worry was painted on her face. It was the day, or rather the day before her big night.

"Gale?" The woman's brother spoke. His voice was soft and level. His dark eyes unmoving from her form.

Gale turned to him and smiled. The worry vanished immediately as she put her hands on her tiny hips. Her oversized black garb rolled over her gloved hands. "Don't worry, Ezra. I'll be okay. Just might take a while, I do have a lot of ground to cover."

"Gale, I know that isn't the issue. Please, do not treat me like an idiot."

"Well. The issue is under control, I have measures in place to manage myself. So there is nothing to worry about, okay? I'll be okay. After all, I can't let that little lover of yours show me up!"

"Are you sure? We can switch responsibilities. A couple choir members won't be that much of an issue to get rid of if--"

"No!" Gale snapped, she quickly clasped her hands over her mouth. She looked down, her lashes hid her eyes from her brother. Slowly her hands moved away. "No," she repeated softer, "that's a risk I'm not willing to take. I'd rather purge the old town and dungeons of their life before I hurt another human. I...I can't."

Ezra frowned, but gave her a slow nod. "Stay safe."

"Always."

"And," he stood up. The black garb he wore was identical to hers, but his was not as ill fitted. Still, it was a bit large for his wiry frame. He approached his sister and pulled her into a hug. He held her tight. She put her arms around him as well.

"Yes?" She asked, slightly muffled by his chest.

"If you can't do it wait for me and my love. We'll help you after our missions are complete."

Gale nodded and the two parted. He gave her a firm pat on the shoulder then turned away without another word. Gale took in a deep breath, turned on her heels, and finally exited the house. The closing of the heavy door echoed through the hall. Ezra could not dismiss the uneasy feeling in his heart, but he simply had to trust his elder sister.

Gale stepped out into the stone tiled street of Yahar'gul-- which was simply a lane that branched off of the main city of Yharnam. It’s main entrance was closed to the public at large, though. An organization of sorts had taken it over some time ago. She tugged the frayed hood over her head and took a moment to push any stray locks of her long hair into the hood. She took a glance down the road towards the advent plaza with an uneasy frown. That, however, was not her destination. She did not much like what her organization was doing there, but what could she do about it? She tore her eyes away from the Mensis stronghold and started up the street towards Cathedral Ward.

The dull grey buildings were bathed in the late afternoon sunlight. Eyes from the common folk all followed Gale. They knew not about the school or it's activities, nor really what the black garbed hunters decorated in long ropes did, however the grim reaper look-a-likes still managed to inspire fear when seeing them. People tended to go missing at night when those dressed as she were around--but, this was day. Most did not seem frightened, as if they knew instinctively she was not out for them. Gale swung her hips as she walked, to allow her heavy dark cape to more dramatically sway and flutter. The only reason for this was to allow the weapon at her waist to be more visible. The silver cane glimmered in the sunlight, which stood out against the dusty, drab outfit. That glint was a toothless warning, but warded away the civilizations nonetheless.

She ventured up to Cathedral Ward quick enough. Just as the people did on her street, the people of the richer part of town avoided the oddly dressed hunter. She was soft footed and far less showy of her weapon here. She had no desire to draw attention to herself outside of her little part of town. She knew the church hunters would be far less threatened by a mere threaded cane.

Gale stared up at the grand cathedral. It towered over the city of Yharnam, by far it was the tallest building. It was such a homely, familiar sight. But still, it stirred up feelings that made the woman's stomach twist. The ever so familiar sound of heels clicking against the stairs pulled Gale's attention.

Most of the people on the stairs were common folk, and undoubtedly inside were most of the church members, but one had parted from the pact. She stepped down the stairs, her deceitfully nice eyes scanned the civilizations. She allowed a soft smile to grace her lip, but it was hollow. Her blonde hair glistened in the sunlight and her pale skin radiated angelically. Her body looked dainty in the black church hunter garb, and if one did not know of their reputation she would look harmless. A farce she was allowed through genetics, though one she took advantage of.

Gale ducked into a corner, her back pressed to the stairs. The cold concrete was a small comfort, but her heart still battered against her ribcage. That church hunter was the last person Gale wanted to see. She took a deep breath and cast her eyes down the giant staircase. She had to get to the bottom, directly in view of the hunter. As she tried to think up a plan a ‘eep’ stirred her out of her thoughts.

“You seem anxious, is something the matter?” The hunter’s cool and calm voice asked.

Gale peered back over and watched the hunter examine a young lady. The girl was ghostly pale, and her hair so light blonde it could have been mistaken for white in some lighting. It was pulled back into a tidy bun. She looked quite well off. The style of her clothes looked like a foreign take on Yharnam dress, but far more intricate. Her eyes evaded the hunter’s exam, but she did not seem to act as if she was a beast to be. 

“No…” The girl muttered.

The hunter hummed, the shine in the once cold eyes made Gale’s stomach twist.

"I-I am from Hemwick. I simply came to pick up some incense. I… it's overwhelming how many people are here," the girl desperately tried to explain, it was obvious she could sense things had gone wrong somehow. She tried to save face.

"I see. Well, Hemwick is quite a struggling little lane, isn't it? The church is giving out such things for free, if you don't have the coin."

"It's fine--"

The sound of metal clicking and clanging against itself cut off the girl. She pressed her lips shut together. The hunter stood there, the church pick extended to its proper war pick. Her smile fake, and her eyes with a cold finality once more. “Follow me.” She demanded in a cold and deadly voice. 

Much to Gale’s surprise, the girl stiffly did as requested and followed the hunter up the steps. Her sash and dress flowed with each step, and quivered in the wind. Gale watched them for a moment before she let out a sigh. The hunter was leading the young lady to her death, she knew the hunter well enough to know that was the case. She straightened out her garb and adjusted the hood before she followed suit. Her eyes stayed on the hunter, she hoped she would feel eyes burrowing into her and turn to see. Turn and make Gale the bigger priority. But alas, it never happened.

The trio entered the cathedral, Gale’s eyes fell upon the table with dozens of bloodviles. Her stomach tightened as the church members dressed in white garb gave and administered the toxic blood. She broke away from the two and made a b-line to the table. Her boots hit heavily against the floor. Her heart rate never once slowed.

The woman behind the table looked up at Gale and frowned. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait in--”

Gale wordlessly brushed her arm over the table top and sent everything to the floor. The woman in white jumped back and stared shocked as Gale put both hands on the table and hopped up onto it. She spun, her cape slammed more bottles to the ground. The glass popped and the sound of liquid splashing against the tile echoed off the walls. Gale tugged off her hood, her eyes set directly on the hunter. 

"People of Yharnam!" Gale’s voice was amplified by the building structure. "The blood is venom! Poisons you! The church is killing us all!" Her eyes flickered to the horrified girl she had followed. Her pupils were normal. She had heterochromia in her irises, but that was no reason to kill her. Gale felt a wave of relief wash over her, she was sure she had done the right thing. The girl was just human.

"Abigale! Get down from there!" The blond church hunter called. She had dropped all interest in the girl and charged, weapon ready, towards Gale.

Gale's dark eyes settled on the hunter. "Make me, Quill! You are among the most devious of this corrupt organization, you know damn well the blood is causing the plague!" She egged.

"You have lost it! Enough!" Quill snapped, her teeth gritted and grinded.

Gale smiled and tugged the threaded cane she had from her waist, and with a quick snap of her wrist it whipped out into her favorite from. The crack from the threaded whip sent the people of Yharnam out of the building, they practically ran over each other to flee. The doctors scampered away from behind her. The woman who had tried to talk to Gale before turned to face the two hunters. Her soft blue eyes were wide. Something was wrong, indeed. The threaded cane was something very common within the church, yet there was a hunter in garb of something clearly unholy. Her white heels clicked against the ground as she backed away. Her hand gently touched the handle of a small dagger she had tucked into her sash.

Quill charged Gale and tried to catch her in a huge overhead swing. Gale dived off the table just as the pick hammered through the thing with a sickening crack. It buckled under the weight of Quill’s strike.

“Missed me,”Gale sang, “Now, come Quill. Show mommy what you got!”

Quill scoffed, but before she could properly raise her weapon again the threaded whip snapped. Quill tried to jump back, but there was too much of a pull. The whip had wrapped itself around the pole of her church pick, right below the weapon’s head. She tried to reposition her hands, but Gale was too too quick. With all the might her arms could manage she pulled back in a sudden jolt. The weapon tore away from Quill's hands and flew towards Gale. The brunette caught it, and without the whip's tension easily dislodged it.

The blonde hunter took a step back and tugged her skirt up. Strapped to her thigh was a pistol that she quickly armed herself with. There was no hesitation to pull the trigger. The bullet whizzed by Gale, only grazing her arm slightly. She winced at the burning sensation. She kept her grip on the two weapons.

"Quill, you've lost it," Gale said through gritted teeth.

The hunter's blue eyes narrowed on the freckled brunette. "Hardly. What exactly is that you're wearing?" She gestured with her gun. "And why would you charge in here and bad talk the church?"

"To get your attention."

Quill took in a deep breath. "The girl," She stated, "Ever the bleeding heart, so much as to allow your heart to bleed for an abhorrent creature as her. And now she's gone."

Quill's fingers started to pull the trigger once more, but stopped and dropped her weapon as Gale chucked the church pick at her. Quill fumbled, nearly losing her balance to not allow the pick to hit the ground as Gale quickly darted past her and out of the cathedral. She brushed past the church doctor in white as she left. The heaviness of the tattered cape slightly turned the doctor as it pulled against her for a brief moment.

The doctor stared ahead dumbfounded, absolutely befuddled by the event that had just occurred. Quill hurried over to her.

"Eleanor, are you okay?" Quill asked as she put a gentle hand on the doctor's shoulder.

Eleanor nodded. Her cornflower blue eyes slowly met with Quill's before trailing back over to the broken table and blood on the floor. The tendrils of red seeped out through the cracks in the floor. It slowly reached out closer and closer to both the altar and the two church members, however not towards the opposite wall.

"What did she mean? About the blood?" Eleanor's soft voice barely was able to force itself past her trembling lips.

"She's mad. Pay her words no mind." Quill cast her gaze down the stairs. "Now. Two of my prey managed to escape me this day. I cannot allow it."

Quill took heavy, assured steps out of the cathedral and quickly picked up her pace to catch the madwoman. Her black dress flowed so gracefully behind her

Elenor turned to watch. Gale was halfway down the staircase already. She leaped over steps and swived past passing people. She followed and weaved into crowds of common folk, only the overflow of her fabric touching others as she passed. Something was odd about Abigale, Eleanor thought. Simply, nothing about her added up. It made the doctor's stomach twist.

But the blood was a good thing. It healed near any ailment. It had done so much for Yharnam. Had it not? Sure, it was addictive, but surely that didn’t taint all the good it could do… right?

Quill refused to let Gale out of her sights, and Gale knew that well. Sneaking off to her real destination was out of the question, but the winding roads and routes of Central Yharnam would do fine to lose the hunter, surely. She knew the routes well, and b-lined it to the great bridge. She managed to keep ahead of the hunter with ease.

After crossing it and making it properly into Yharnam she tugged her hood over her head and ducked into an ally, quickly scurrying out the other side and behind a parked horse drawn carriage. She hopped up onto the back step and held her breath. The clicks of heels soon followed, then stopped. 

Quill panted and murmured. The tapped the sharp end of her pick against the ground as she thought. Finally, she took a step back.

"Fine," Quill said to no one in particular, "I can play games too. It's evening now, anyways." And with that, the clicks of her heels headed back the way she came.

Gale let out a breath of relief. She gently put her feet back on the ground, her footfall as light as a feather. Though she had escaped Quill this time, it was obvious the hunter had not given up. The great bridge was off limits, and surely Quill too knew of the second way into the cathedral ward. Sure the hunter could not man both posts, but Gale knew she could not outdo Quill in mind games.

Gale sat on the step she had just climbed down from. She had no option but to try to sneak back over in the late evening, when most would lock themselves away for the possible hunt. It was, no doubt, a terrible idea for Gale. What if a hunt did take place that night? Gale worried, but still a sick glee and hope settled in the pit of her stomach. Oh, it had been some time since she had been on a proper hunt.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Eleanor spent her late afternoon cleaning up the mess that was once a table and bloodviles. The grand cathedral was cleared and only the girl in white remained with the lingering smell of iron. Her chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail as she worked. The blood called to her, the substance was such an addictive one. It was intoxicating. It was more than a craving for most church members, it was a need. Yet, the speckles of blood a short distance away pulled Eleanor back to reality. Abigale's blood. She had always thought she was doing the correct thing, and the blood showed such great results. But…

The click of heels drew in the doctor's attention away from the blood and her pounders. She looked up to see a rather disgruntled Quill. Her pick was clean.

"Didn't catch her?" Eleanor asked.

Quill shook her head. "The traitor got away. But the church is ushering people homeward and we're setting up to lock Cathedral Ward for the night. Trap the girl in Central Yharnam, and should the beasts come to play tonight… well. I'll play indeed. Hunt them and her, and tomorrow take a trip to Hemwick for the other prey that got away."

Eleanor nodded despite not being all too sure what Quill was talking about. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but she did not know why. "Traitor?"

Quill fell silent, then shook her head. "Hurry up, you need to finish before nightfall."

Eleanor nodded and carried on. However she knew in her heart that she was going out that night. None of it seemed to add up. Toxic blood, the failure to resort to proper violence, the fleeing, and now the word 'traitor'? No. It was all too odd. Eleanor still felt her stomach do flips at the notion, she was no hunter, after all. Should a beast prowl the night she was done for.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

The sun set over Yharnam, it bathed the city in soft orange and pink hues. The dusty grey buildings looked alive, even if the streets were barren. The hassle of the day was over, the time to cower had come. Gale still sat upon the step of the parked carriage. The sound of doors that creaked as they opened took her away from her daydreams. She watched as men slowly poured out of their homes, farm tools as weapons in hand. Torches lit. The hunt was on.

Gale grounded the tip of her threaded cane into the cobblestone at her feet, and kept one hand firmly on the handle. The men glanced at her, but none approached. The odd few gave her a slight nod as they passed, which she responded in kind with. A few more minutes ticked by before Gale readied herself for her trek back to Cathedral Ward. She headed towards the tomb, figuring it would be easier to sneak through than the great bridge's gate. The yelp of a beast caught her attention, soon it was followed by the screams of the town folk.

"Burn! Burn!" Echoed through the streets. Gale sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and ran her teeth over her bottom lip. The smell of burning flesh and fur filled the air, it sent a shiver down Gale's spine.

She snapped out of it. She tried to pay it no mind. She tried to carry on, she tried to keep the goal of getting to the sewers to traverse more easily in mind. However, the night would not be so kind. She stopped dead in her tracks as a caball of men stumbled across her path. They failed to notice her right away, but she saw them clearly. Collapsed pupils. That was the first sign.

She cracked her whip to see if they would react, and without fail their heads snapped to look in her direction. Without another second passing they scurried in towards her, weapons raised.

"Beast!" Hissed one of the men, his words sounded dull witted and slurred. He scowled to reveal teeth far more canine-like than human.

That confirmed it. The men were no longer human. Their minds had been lost.

"Alright," Gale purred, a smile crept up on her face. She bounced on her toes in anticipation.

The man at the head of the pact raised his pitchfork to strike. She swiftly sidestepped the plunge and whipped him twice while he tried to recover his balance. The hits landed across his front and side, one of the metal shards in the threaded whip slashed open his throat. His blood sprayed like a fountain for just a moment before it faded into strong gushes to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Crimson splattered over Gale, and painted the cobblestone road as he fell face first onto it.

Ecstasy flowed through the woman's veins as she once more readied to attack. Barely able to control her voice she teased, "Come boys! Mommy wants to play!" As she whipped into the crowd. The threaded whip tore through the beastly men easily. The men screeched and hollered, their weapons clattered to the floor. The stench of blood and beast surrounded her more and more with each crack of the whip. She simply adores it. The feeling of warm blood against her skin, the sound of tearing flesh, the meaty thud of corpses crumpling to the floor, the splatters, everything.

Before long only Gale remained amongst the pile of bodies. She panted as her body quivered with a sexual high. She put a shaky hand on her chest, she could feel her heart pounding away with all its might. Her knees knocked and her nether regions suspiciously dampened by the less than erotic display.

"Only beasts," she breathed softly, "only ever beasts." She closed her eyes. "I… I protect people. Only… only beasts."

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Eleanor pulled her curtains aside and peered out into Cathedral Ward from her comfortable house. She had not seen the church hunters garbed in black for a while, she had even seen a group of them hurriedly scurry into a house. Shaken, in tears… it was very uncharacteristic. She brushed it off as the fact she usually didn't usually sit by the window and peer into hunt nights.

She pulled away from the window, straightened out her white dress, and double checked she had her dagger and lock picks. She knew there was no use stalling. The night would only get worse the longer she waited.

She slipped out of her house and into the homely streets of Cathedral Ward. The night was young enough that no screams or hollars could be heard from Central Yharnam just yet-- at least, not not ones she could hear. She did not linger in the streets. Eleanor quickly made her way towards the great bridge. Even if the main gate would have been locked the side door could be opened easily enough for the doctor to figure out. After all, Eleanor had come from a less than savory background.

There was an eerie silence only broken by her footsteps going through the streets. Only the soft sounds of sizzling incense accompanied the clicking of the doctor's heels. The gentle wind was cold and bit through the white garb she wore. She shivered, but oddly enough the wind was not enough to make her shall dance behind her.

As she traversed through Cathedral Ward she opened a large gate that cut off both the residents and main church from the relatively desolate area with nothing but small chapels. She was worried about what she had done, for it could not be locked from the side she was now on. She thought it couldn't be too hard to find this Abigale girl, and the interview to follow couldn't be lengthy either. Then it was a matter of sneaking back and locking the ward back up once more. Surely nothing too bad could happen in that time, she naively assumed.

She made it down the long steps that ended on the road to the bridge. Things had gone well and no one had bothered her. She was feeling confident, surely this night would not be one of a hunt. It was just a peaceful night. She carried on, the soul thing she had to worry about was if she stumbled into Quill. She really did not know how she would explain herself to the huntress. However, such a pitiful worry was soon overshadowed.

The screech of a beast reverberated through Eleanor 's bones. It felt as if it shook the air around her. It was not the sound of a normal beast at all, no. It was louder than that. More feral. She heard it come from somewhere within Cathedral ward. Her casual pace became hurried as she glanced over her shoulder. Every hair on her body stood on end. She became hyper aware of each sound she made. Each breath. Each footfall. Each heartbeat. She was almost as the bridge when she felt it. The ground under her jolted. Again, she checked over her shoulder. A beast was indeed in Cathedral Ward. He seemed to wander around behind her. It was headed the same direction, but it had not seemed to notice her yet. It seemed confused. Regardless, adrenaline shot through the doctor's veins and she took off running.

The movement caught the antlered beast's attention. It lumbered after her, using an oversized arm to aid in a quick pursuit. It screeched once more. Luckily for Eleanor she had a large head start and she knew the area well. She knew of a door that was just under the main platform-- it was used by the church to get in and out of Central Yharnam when the gate on the great bridge was closed. It was just down a set of stairs close by. As fast as her legs could carry her she skittered down the stairs, nearly tripping several times as the walls and roof shook. The beast’s footfall was heavy above her. It stomped and tried to grab down the stairwell, but Eleanor had slipped too far into the narrow hall. Specs of dirt and debris showered down from the roof above her upon her. She could hear the ground creek and the whole lower corridor quiver with each move of the beast on the platform above. The beast let out another harrowing screech and the doctor’s surroundings shook more violently than it ever had before.

Eleanor ran into the door, she hit it hard with her shoulder. The thing did not budge, but the girl seemed unaffected. She fished the lock pick out and quickly went to work on the door. It took a few moment, but she was able to get it open with no real issue. The door flew open and she busted out onto the bridge. 

Eleanor stared at it wide eyed. Breath caught in her lungs. The beast had managed to get itself over the wall and gate that kept Cathedral ward locked away from the rest of the city. There it stood in front of her on the bridge already, it's back was to her. The foul stench permeated the air and made the doctor's eyes water. Finally, her body reacted. She let out an ear piercing scream as she stumbled backwards, falling onto her bottom.

Her scream was very quickly muted via a gunshot that rang through the air, it echoed through the streets of Yharnam. The beast let out a scream as well, it stumbled forward and held it's head in one hand, the other planted on the bridge to hold steady. Blood spurted from somewhere on its head, but the creature lived.

Eleanor stared at it, paralyzed with fear. She had realised a girl across the bridge had done that with one bullet. Bullets were made from the mercury of the users blood, most commonly. Yharnam was the city of blood, so it was hardly shocking many things would be born of blood there. That was hardly the odd part, oh no. However, a useful bullet from a commoner was practically unheard of. No, the strongest of bullets came from those most tainted-- most vile. Eleanor could not regain enough witts to really think about that, though. She saw the giant beast bow to that girl. Blood poured from its head and pooled at its feet. Eleanor was sure another shot or two would down the thing no problem, but the night was silent of any more gunfire. The mysterious sharp shooter was not the to be the doctor's savior and simply chose to vanish into the city instead.

The beast took a few labored steps forward after it recovered enough to do so, it snored and gargled as it moved. But the complicated prey had lost it's interest. It slowly turned back towards the large closed gate. It’s black, beady eyes settled on the doctor as it started towards the woman who was paralyzed in fear.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

A woman’s scream broke the still air of Yharnam. Gale jumped in her skin, her heart pounded. She had heard the large beast before and had noted she should avoid the direction it had come from, but that scream? A woman. A human woman. And not just that, a human woman from the same direction as the beastly screams. Gale chewed her lip, had she any option? Her legs started to move before she had even fully made up her mind. Only beasts should die on a night like this, if she left a human she would be a monster too. Her brisk walk soon turned to a jog, then an all out sprint.

She followed the feeling of ground shaking with the steps of a beast. She soon realised it might have been in the cathedral ward. Luckily, it was on her side of the city. Her stomach sank as she scrambled up the stairs and onto the bridge. She stared towards the opposite side of the bridge, her dark eyes locked on the fluttering white fabric of a church member as she squirmed in the hand of the beast. She slammed her fists into it’s hand but it only raised her higher off the ground. A huge beast, one that had undoubtedly been a cleric at one point, was now her mark.

Eleanor struggled desperately, it felt as if the beast would just crush her in it’s hand. Tears rolled down her face as the pressure around her torso made it near impossible to breath. Her lungs burned and her bones creaked as they threatened to shatter. She closed her eyes tight to try to stop them from bulging out of her skull. All she could think about was how undignified it was to die this way and how much she regret leaving her house that night. She had almost lost all hope before a voice rang out.

“Nuh-uh pup! You know not to play with your food, Mommy will have to punish you for that!”

The voice was familiar, the doctor tried to peak but before she could look down the sound of a cracking whip and the meat being sliced made it all too clear who had come to her rescue.

The serrated whip slashed against the arm of the beast, it tore through fur and flesh like butter and left a long, bloody gash that nearly reached the bone. Blood splattered against the bridge and bits of fur floated atop of it breaking up the rusty red with white and grey. It screamed at the hunter for even daring to hit it.

Eleanor was dropped as the beast screamed in pain. The doctor hit the stone ground with a hard, meaty thud. Pain shot through her body as she hit shoulder first into the cobblestone. She let out a gasp in both pain and desperation to breath. The blood from the beast’s arm dripped on her from above. Desperately in spite of the pain she tried to scramble away. She didn’t want to be stepped on or grabbed again. She did manage one glance at the hunter who saved her.

Gale stood here, a wicked smile on her face as her black eyes stayed focused on the beast that towered above her. It’s size and scream barely phased her. She spoke again, “Mommy doesn’t like back talking, pup!” She taunted as if the creature could understand her words.

After the beast recovered from the slice it lumbered towards the hunter in black, it swiped but the tiny girl was too quick to be caught by it’s claws. She lept back and cracked her whip once again. The sharp jagged iron of it cut into the beast’s hand. It didn’t react, it simply followed her. It raised its arm above its head and tried to slam it down on Abigale. Again, she was too quick for the lumbering thing. She dove and rolled between the gap of it’s legs just in time to not be crushed. One more whip strike, this time against its back. As the threaded whip fell back into it’s jagged resting position she slammed it into the beast’s spine. The threads fell back into place. It grabbed it’s matted fur and flesh alike as it snapped back into it’s cane form. The beast screamed as Abigale pulled her weapon back-- it tore everything it had bitten into with it. A horrid hole now in it’s back. It spewed blood like a geyser for a moment before simply flowing down onto the bridge like a river. The white of its spine was exposed and clearly damaged. As it tried to turn to again face the girl the fractions only deepened… then they gave. Its legs simply stopped working and it slammed down on it’s side. Pained hisses still left it’s mouth as it tried to force itself up, then it tried simply to turn to the hunter.

Abigale was basically purring as she spoke, “Teaches you to be naughty,” she said through a smile. She ran her teeth over her bottom lip as she took measured steps towards it. The beast reached with a hand, but without breaking eye contact with it she shoved the tip of her cane through it’s hand. “White church doctor. Your name.” she demanded, her tone now serious. Still, the sick, sadistic pleasure she felt was painted on her freckled face.

Eleanor jumped when she was addressed. She still sat huddled to the wall of the bridge, she still tried to catch her breath. Finally in a shaky, breathy voice she spoke, “I’m… Ella.”

“Behold.” Abigale tore the cane from the beast’s and, in one quick yet graceful movement, released its teeth and transformed the weapon back into its whip to finish the beast off with a quick slice of its throat. “A Cleric beast.”

“A… cleric…?” Eleanor managed to sputter out.

“That’s right. This is what your wicked blood does to people.” Abigale’s eyes were set on the beast. A gleeful glimmer till in them and completely juxtaposed the serious tone her voice held. “A cleric. Probably a coworker of your’s.”

Eleanor didn’t say anything. She felt sick to her stomach, and she wasn’t sure if she should trust Abigale. In some sick way it made sense, but the doctor’s mind refused to believe it. She held her tongue.

A gurgled death rattle left the creature and Abigale finally looked up from it. She stepped over it’s corpse and approached the doctor. She offered the woman a hand. “I’m Gale.”

Eleanor started at the brown leather clad hand for a moment before she took it and let this traitor help her to her feet. “Thank you, Gale.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you've gathered at this point many chapters are going to overlap in time frame. The first 4 chapters are all introductions, so please excuse the slow start. Having a A, B, C, and D plot is not something I've attempted before so... let's hope I do okay!


	3. III: The Scholar and The Scion

The choir’s orphanage was abuzz with movement and frantic planning. Discussions left, right, and center. Tonight was to be the night a small group would travel to Byrgenwerth on a very important mission. As soon as evening fell and the majority of Yharnam’s population locked themselves inside, that was when they would leave. Of course there were risks associated with that time-- the possibility of a hunt taking place that night. But that mattered not, the organization knew any more stalling would be detrimental.

The choir didn’t know everything about what the school of Mensis had planned for this night in particular, but they knew enough to fear it. It was why the group of three members who would have been sent out urgently. Two women and a man. As soon as dusk fell and the bells had been rung the task force was going to be released. Until then? It was a waiting game.

Oddly enough, on this day the city was locked down early, had the organization not been prepared early that would have been a major issue. The bells may have tolled loud, easy to hear them through all of Yharnam’s streets, but they could not be heard in the basement of the church where a ginger woman sat. She could hear the elevator activate. The chains clanging, the platform’s edges scraping against the walls. A horrid sound, one that made her feel as if bile was gathered in her throat. She knew it was time. She gave one last look at the creature she was comforting and sighed.

“It seems now I have to bid you farewell, but I know you will fare well without me. You must have for years before I was even a fetus,” she said softly as she climbed to her feet. She held her hands out to the creature, which lowered it’s huge, misshapen head to meet them. It’s tentacles sluggishly moved to loosely wrap around her legs, and the tendrils of its face tickled against her hands. Perhaps like a hug, or at least some sort of sign of affection. It's large eyes focused on the girl it had known for years. So focused that the woman could see her own reflection in them. For only a moment the woman and this eldritch creature sat, appreciating one another’s company. The woman whispered, "I pray for your protection if trouble finds me."

The elevator clicked into place and footsteps echoed through the cavern. “It’s time.”

The woman slowly pulled her hands away, lifted the heavy robes, and stepped over the creature’s appendages on the ground. She did not look back or say another word to it. In fact, she said not a word to anyone. The only sound was the droplets of water from her robes hitting the ankle deep water the ground and the sloshing sounds it made as she trudged through it.

She followed along and played the part she was expected to play. And, once the elevator took her back up, she and the other two left with haste and very little fanfare. In fact, only a final debriefing was made. The woman had heard it time and time again, so she picked her ears and waited for everyone to shut up.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

A ginger haired woman dragged her feet as she followed her fellow choir members through the dank, dark back streets of Yharnam. The other two scouted for civilians before ushering her forward. The streets of Cathedral Ward were far safer than the ones of Central Yharnam, but caution had to be exercised. The two who acted as guards' hands never left the handles of their threaded canes that were tucked into the gold chain wrapped around their waists. The pocket watch dangled opposite the weapon. The ginger woman, however, had her arms limpy at her side and generally had a posture far too relaxed for the situation she was in. She did not carry a cane even, but a metal contraption hung at her hip instead, along with a small pouch. The metal thing was known as a flame sprayer, and though it was essentially a handheld flamethrower it was hardly an ideal weapon for someone to solely rely on.

The low evening sun shone off the woman’s messy hair. She brushed a lock of it away from her face just as a fellow Choir member looked back at her periodically. Her bored expression did not waver once.

“You’re sure this is the right way?” one of the women asked.

“Yeah, of course Yuri..! Maybe…” The boy laughed nervously.

Yuri just gave an annoyed sigh, “It was the one thing you were supposed to do, don’t tell me you got it wrong.”

“I think we might have gone the opposite direction…”

Yuri grumbled, but decided arguing with the young man would do her no good. He was kind of a dolt and she knew it, at least when it came to street smarts. "Sophus, quit dragging your feet," Yuri said. Her voice was stern, but a whisper. Her annoyance with everything was obvious.

"It isn't as if we would be moving at any breakneck speed even should I lift my feet. I'm marching to my death willingly, must you demand more?" Sophus asked, a lot less mindful of her volume.

"That's an unhealthy way to view this. Your body might be no more, but by all calculations--"

"Yes, yes. I know. My body will die, but I shall persist in the dream, and then shall tend to Rom's every need! I'm aware. I've been debriefed several times." Sophus waved her slender pale hand dismissively with scoff. Her expression changed briefly, but it was to one of distain.

"Yes, because if she fails her job all of Yharnam could fall," the strawberry blond boy with them remarked. "If it's too much for you, I could--"

"You've never cared for a great one, Massy. This is extremely important. Sophus has, and she is wonderful at it," Yuri retorted, no longer minding her tone since the other two weren't.

"I’ve taken care of a real great one. Rom? She's a  _ failed _ great one," the ginger lady corrected, "The one I cared for was far less vacuous. There was light behind her eyes."

Massy nodded.

Yuri sighed, finally having to give up on the two. "Let's just… let's go."

The three choir members carried on. Yuri tried to keep her steps silent and Massy had a bounce to his step. Sophus, of course, proceeded to drag her feet as she watched the two ahead of her. Yuri seemed ready for anything, so determined too. Massy’s blue eyes glimmered with excitement, he wanted to learn more about this world they lived in. However, Sophus felt odd, they both clearly felt strongly about the mission. For different reasons, it appeared, but the ginger simply saw it as a pointless endeavor. Rom had not faltered, she kept the assumed ritual from occurring and Sophus saw herself as a redundancy. She didn't want to die, even less so for something so meaningless. Yet the other two seemed to be so excited over it. So devoted. Was she wrong? Was she simply some hack? Did she even deserve her position within the upper echelons of the church if she felt so bitter about her job? She had always stood out. She had always been lazy, she had never studied things as thoroughly as the others. Her imposter syndrome was nothing worth worrying about, she was very intelligent, but Sophus couldn't help herself.

Yuri peered out into the main street and frowned. She put her arm out to tell the other two to stop. Both Massy and Sophus had hauled before the signal. Yuri stood as still as a statue, she looked as if she even held her breath. Massy shot Sophus a worried look, however the concern melted away as soon as he saw the girl’s face. Curiosity quickly painted over the previous expression. The girl stared blankly ahead of her awaiting Yuri to explain. Not a worry in the world.

Yuri let out a slow breath. "They're loitering," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Human, or..?" Sophus inquired.

"They look inhuman. Not quite beasts but on their way to becoming such." Yuri looked down the other way. "And a patrol. A little while off yet, but they'll be an issue too." She hummed and retreated back into the ally alongside the other two.

"The plan?" Massy asked.

Yuri took a moment to think about it. She pursed her lips and let out another soft hum as she folded her arms and tapped her fingers against her bicep. "Well. The patrol is larger, I can go deal with them. But as soon as I make myself known the small group who's loitering will flank me. So, Massy, I need you to take care of them. Ambush them after I draw everyone's attention. It should be over quickly if you can manage. Sophus, you just need to stay safe. Got it you two?"

The pale ginger hummed an acknowledgement as she rolled her hazel eyes.

"Understood," Massy said, boyish enthusiasm in his voice.

Yuri nodded before she slipped away from the others and quietly padded towards the patrol. Her footfall was nearly silent. Massy shot Sophus a glance. His usually big, boyish blue eyes were narrowed. His soft pink lips were in a very neutral frown. This raised Sophus’ eyebrow at this.

He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Sophus, honestly, do you want to go through with this?"

She furrowed her brow at the question, but gave the answer she assumed he wanted to hear. "It has to be done."

"That doesn't answer the question." He paused and stared for a moment. The shine in his eyes was gone. He shook his head. “I guess you do. I mean, you're still here and no one can force you to do this, right? You're always so difficult to read.”

Yuri's whip snapped and the sound of rapid footsteps against the filthy cobblestone streets drew both their attention. Massy, without another word or glance, swiftly and gracefully stepped out to deal with his portion of enemies. The light that once sparkled in his eyes was still gone.

Sophus glanced back at where they came from, then forward. Massy was right. No one could make her March on to her own death. Why was she allowing it?

She inhaled deeply, pulled her heavy dress and overcoat above her knees, and darted the direction they had come from. Her feet hit the pavement hard, it hurt the soles of her feet. She could feel each step reverberate through her bones. She was not used to such demanding activities at all. She turned at any twist in the road, not once hesitating to cross main walkways. Finally she dove behind a few barrels in an alley and settled down. She was out of breath, desperately trying to inhale quietly and horribly failing. Her heart battered against her ribcage as she thought about what impulse she had just acted upon. Had she just made herself an enemy of the church? That was her whole life, she had never even been out of the choir’s orphanage. Her gasps for air turned to hyperventilation.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Evening carried on and the white haired lad sat in his second story room by a closed curtained window. He quietly waited for the sound of the door opening, but such a sound occurred. It had not for a couple weeks. He was running out of food and the like by now.

The sound of a threaded whip cracking and gleeful taunting broke the boy's thoughts. It must have been another hunt. The unsettling realisation set in for the boy… his uncle was dead. He had suspected as much when he failed to return home during the hunt two weeks back, but he still held onto the vague wisps of hope that danced in his brain while thinking about it.

He got up from his chair and walked to his closet. He was something of a political enemy from what he understood, his uncle failed to disclose much detail. However the white haired lad knew one thing; his home was Cainhurst and surely his true parents would be there. All his clothes were not fit for a hunt, they were all custom made and indicative of Cainhurst nobel attire--apparently by a lady named Adorabelle. He had never met her, and apparently his uncle only ever spoke to her husband. He decided to keep the couple in mind, just in case he needed directions or help.

He slipped into the most comfortable thing he owned; tight black pants and a white billowed collared shirt. For good measure he added a cravat. Dashing, really. Like a true nobel should look-- for that's what he was. Not too distantly related to the queen, he was told. Not that he knew all too much about his family. He had, in fact, never met them. His uncle was not even related by blood. A family friend, he was told.

He went to a keep-sake chest in his room and armed himself with a sword he was told belonged to his father. It was called a Chicage, the lad trained a little with it, but never in any sort of serious combat. Regardless, it was better than nothing and he was not willing to leave it behind. After gathering a few other things he grabbed his coat and approached the front door. His hand paused on the cold handle. He had never gone outside before, after all, it felt so wrong. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled open the door.

A musky, cold gust of wind blew through his living room, so much that the long tail of his coat billowed behind him. He took a deep breath and stepped into the streets of Yharnam’s Cathedral Ward. Both worry and determination behind his pitch black eyes. 

His heels clicked as he walked along the carefully set cobblestone streets. The waves of his wavy hair bounced like curls with each step. His pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. He was beautiful, but very out of place. He decided to stick to side streets, though he was entirely unsure of where to go. He knew Cainhurst was beyond a lake, and thus he had to find water. But wherever would he find that? Surely Yharnam was huge, and who was to say the lake was even in Yharnam. But it was either this or stay locked up in a house until he starved to death. Surely, finding a body of water could not be that difficult, he assumed.

About half an hour into his aimless wanders he found himself feeling as if he was going in circles. He had not been, of course, he was sure not to turn too often, nor in the same direction when he did. However to the unfamiliar eye Yharnam looked the same. The buildings were all so similarly built, the streets were all so repetitive. The lad was indeed feeling frustrated. He tried to keep his eyes up, tried to peer down alleys and streets looking for any sign of water while avoiding the shambling groups of men that were dotted throughout the city. However, this meant he was not being all too observant to anything that might be smart enough to hide.

Sophus had not moved from her spot, she had calmed herself down after about thirty minutes, but her body was still shaking. Her brain was fuzzy. Regardless, though, she tried to figure out what to do. She would have to change her clothes, but how would one do that bar stealing some off a corpse? She would not stoop to such a vile low. She was fairly sure she could defend herself if need be, but she really wasn't a huge fan of trying. However, as she plotted her next move, the sound of clicking heels tore her attention away. Her hand unhitched the metal contraption from her waist as she waited for whoever it was to cross her path. The heals did not sound like stilettos, what the female church hunters wore, but she could not be too sure what else that could mean.

Soon, a pale young man stepped in front of her. She hesitated at the sight. This boy was not a normal yharnamite nor someone of the church. No, she knew exactly what he was. But she had heard the church killed all these vile creatures. How very curious indeed, she thought.

The boy looked just as shocked and confused to see the girl. He froze and the blood drained from his face--not that that really changed his complexion. He seemed entirely unsure how to proceed. She did not try to attack him, so he did not think to do the same.

Sophus put the flamesprayer beside her with a dull thud. The vilebloods were not the chior's issue, nor her focus of study. Simply, the boy was not her problem. Had never been. Granted, she was at least aware of the bare bones history surrounding them. He was an outcast of the church, in a sense just as she was. There was no use doing their dirty work for them, not that she would have cared much even before she ran away. Again. He was not her problem.

"You don't look very dressed for a hunt," She said as she looked him up and down. Her expression only read ‘unimpressed’, even if the lad was quite easy on the eyes. She had no interest.

"I… suppose I'm not," he said as he sunk into his shoulders, comfortable with her judgmental stare, "Nor are you."

"Yeah, I suppose," she said. Her eyes briefly settled on the sword. Well, she wasn't much of a fighter. She could easily throw him to the wolves if things got messy, as well as use him to fight any beast they stumbled across. A shaky alliance, to be sure, but she figured it was worth a shot. It could do nothing but benefit her. At least until she found a purpose or a place to go to be rid of Yharnam. "I'm Sophus."

He nodded slowly, he had decided she could not tell he was some kind of political enemy of the ruling force of Yharnam. After all, he couldn't even tell she was of the church, let alone the elite faction of it. "I'm Blanche." He extended a hand to her as an offer to help her to her feet and sheepishly smiled.

Sophus hitched the metal thing to her hip once more before shooing away his hand and getting up by herself. Blanche pulled his hand to his chest and watched as she brushed off her white robes before she asked, "So, what's a rich boy like you doing out on these streets, more so on this night?"

Blanche took a moment to reply. His hand lingered over his heart until he answered, that is when he let it fall back to his side. "I'm trying to get home. I'm not really familiar with this part of town. So, uhm, would you happen to know where a lake is?"

Sophus made a face, she scrunched up her nose and pushed her brows towards each other. Such an odd question. Of course she understood he was asking to get to Cainhurst, but why? Surely he knew the bridge was destroyed and everyone was dead. Perhaps he just wished to see the destruction for himself. That still made no sense to her.

"I do. Past the cathedral and down some lane, a charnel house is on it, I think," she explained, "and we would have to basically stroll right up the grand cathedrals steps to get to it. You know, the church's headquarters."

Blanche's face fell at the mention of the church. His heart sunk as well, right to his stomach. He grabbed anxiously at the white cotton shirt. Thinking of standing in front of the church's doorstep made him want to vomit.

"Don't want to have to face down the church, huh?"

"I…"

"No, no. I understand, you're a political enemy of old… or rather, from probably twenty odd years back. Would that be considered old? Regardless, worry not, I don't care. Their affairs are no longer of my concern. I'm simply a researcher of sorts, but I do believe I've made myself a political enemy myself," she said nonchalantly, though she had just been panicking about it not too long ago. Having someone at her side gave her confidence to act like she did not care. "After all, Blanche, I am of the most elite faction of the Healing Church. Or, rather, was. Surely they would not be all too pleased to know someone knowing most every secret they have is out on the loose."

Blanche did not say a word, he just nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot. His dark eyes stared at the mess of a woman with unease.

"I care not for your blood, vileblood," she assured, "If anything, you are a rare specimen I could study. It's not my usual field, but I value and seek knowledge regardless. I assure you I have no reason to throw you to the wolves."

Still, he looked uneasy, his eyes darted down each side of the alley for an escape.

Sophus rolled her eyes. "Fine. How about I spill some secrets that would surely get me killed should it get out I uttered them."

"O...kay?"

"The church's healing blood should be feared. He can heal, yes, but it’s wholly unfit for humans to use long term. It's not compatible. Your blood, though not wholly safe, is more so than the church's. Their hatred of your kind is that you have very similar blood to the organization, it gives off the same healing properties and made the vilebloods a viable threat to the church’s grip on Yharnam. Through propaganda came hatred from the general population." she tapped her chin before. Honestly, this was a theory she made up on the spot with what little she knew of the vilebloods. She just though that this boy had no idea about what the politics of Yharnam were so mentioning them seemed pointless. "Of course, this is not something the church would ever outright say. So. Knowing the church's dislike for your kind was nothing more than a skirmish for power and control, why would I care what you are?"

Blanche's face softened. Sophus' nasally and matter of fact voice was something of a comfort. "I guess that makes some sense," he said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. That was such a pathetic reason to hate a race of people, he thought.

"Good. Now, take me to your place. We need to think up a plan."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading. I'm unsure it this is something anyone would even be interested in, so I would love for you to let me know what you thought!


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